


Forehead Kisses

by mintleaftea



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1918746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintleaftea/pseuds/mintleaftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico never meant to fall into the routine of Percy Jackson, but he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forehead Kisses

Nico di Angelo loved touching. It wasn’t a sex thing, it was a human thing…it was an alive thing, the longing for the warmth of a living person to remind him that there were people who still were alive. 

It was everything else that came with touching that Nico hated. He hated the surge of emotions, the warmth in his stomach, how every touch made everything so real, and so hard to run away from. Because touching real, living people solidified the realities he would eventually have to deal with and face and that was enough to scare him to the company of the dead for weeks.

It had started after Bianca,and so it sort of made sense that the healing process had started with Hazel. He fell into a routine with her, a feeling of comfort and a sense of safety that it seemed only his sister could create for him. Her reality was as messed up as his, and so they worked together. With Hazel he could share touches, hugs, and eventually he found himself kissing her forehead like he remembered his mother doing, like he remembered Bianca doing. It was a gesture that meant love and comfort and safety.

Nico thought that it was only because Hazel was Hazel, but it was when he had first held Percy’s hand that he began to realize that it wasn’t because Hazel was his sister, but because she was his reality. 

And now Percy was his reality, too, although he never wanted that to happen. Nico was finding it harder and harder to resist his impulse to touch Percy’s shoulder, his hand, his face. He found himself falling into Percy’s hugs and kisses and warmth with more and more ease and was surprised when he found himself welcoming more than terrified.

Nico hadn’t meant to fall into a routine of Percy Jackson, but he did. They’d kiss when they saw each other, no matter after how long, and Nico would revel in the warmth of another human being so close to him. Percy would grip Nico’s shoulders and squeeze, afraid that Nico would disappear again, vanish into the darkness like he so often did. But Nico would cling with equal might to Percy’s light, which radiated off him in smiles and touches. 

Sometimes, they’d hold each other into the night, and soft kisses came to mouthing at each other’s necks and chests, bodies pressed against each other seeking to be closer and closer until it was impossible to breath, whispers of comfort turning into begging and moaning and shouting in passion. 

Sometimes they would merely sit, Nico leaning his head against Percy’s shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Words didn’t need to be spoken, they communicated with the soft tracing of fingers on palms and bumping of shoulders. 

No matter what, though, they would never let go of each other, never let go of the others warmth, hold on until the sunlight in the morning forced them apart, much too soon and Nico would leave again, into the darkness like he always did. 

And Percy would grab him, right before his slipped away, hold him close, and, just for a moment, one last moment, press him lips against Nico’s forehead. A gesture that meant love and comfort and safety. 

And, Nico would remember as the cold of the Underworld peeled away at the warmth Percy had given him that was still humming on his forehead, a gesture that meant a home to return to.


End file.
